Chapter 4 #2
Rose pointed to a bowl that sat in the middle of the table. “You need some o’ that, too. It’s good for you. We picked ‘em from our garden.”
Kenyon thanked her and scooped up some of the strawberries and blackberries.
“I’m Mamie,” the grandmother said. “I hear you’ve met Rose and Rover. Dalia is out minding the sheep and chickens. She’ll be in soon.”
Kenyon didn’t know what to say. A hundred questions popped into her head but it wouldn’t be fitting to ask them in front of a child. So she figured she may as well chow down.
Mamie flipped the scrapple slices until they turned a perfect crispy brown.
Rose ate enthusiastically, staring Kenyon down all the while. Rover sat at the girl’s side, also homed in on the intruder. He licked his lips, ready in case the stranger dropped a morsel of the good stuff.
Kenyon noticed half a dozen pies, eight loaves of bread, and a cake on shelves in a hutch on the other side of the room. When Mamie sat down to eat, Kenyon asked about the baked goods and learned that Mamie baked as a business. Her customers usually came to the farm to pick up their goods.
“I do mostly pies and Dalia does the cakes. See that chocolate one?” She pointed at a cake with her fork.
Kenyon nodded. “It looks yummy.”
“We call it our ‘Divorce Cake.’ It’s two layers of moist triple chocolate cake infused with dark chocolate chips and with chocolate fudge frosting in-between the layers and on the outside.
” She pinched a thumb and forefinger together to demonstrate the half-inch thickness of the icing.
“We’ve become known for our wedding cakes, but a woman called one day wanting a divorce cake to share with her friends.
We’d done her wedding cake only three months earlier. ”
“No way!”
“Way. So we started putting them on our menu and voila! We sell a lot of them.” Mamie chuckled and got up to make more scrapple.
By the time the door flew open and the young woman who’d been outside came in, Kenyon had been served two more slices of scrapple and Rose had opted for one more. Rover still focused on the interloper, ever hopeful.
“Boo, our guest is doing fine, eating and everything.” Mamie’s comment revealed that they’d feared Kenyon wouldn’t be doing fine this morning.
“Hi.” Kenyon put down her fork and addressed the young woman. “I can’t thank you all enough for helping me. I mean, this is all so kind. The bed, the clothes, the breakfast. You’re more than generous. I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I finish eating and make a call for someone to come get me.”
She became unnerved when the young woman didn’t respond, instead staring at her.
She was a pretty thing with long, brown hair; flawless skin unfettered by makeup; and a strong, lithe shape beneath her tattered jeans and “Farmer’s Market” tee shirt.
Kenyon worked out in a gym to try to stay in that kind of shape.
She wondered if farm-work did the trick for this woman.
She was a natural beauty if ever there was one.
Kenyon didn’t recall seeing her at the strip club.
But the eyes – that lake-blue of the stripper’s eyes. The realization struck as if a spotlight had snapped on in her brain. This was the dancer in the red wig who’d been on stage and glanced at her with such pity when her life came crashing down. She would never forget that look.
“Hi. I’m Dalia.” The stripper with the bodacious body – homebody-farmer-mother in this house – let loose with a dazzling smile. “And I’m starved!”
The ice broken, Dalia joined them and the entire loaf of scrapple and every slice of bacon disappeared in no time. Rover’s greatest wish came true when Rose gave Kenyon permission to feed him a bite of bacon, reinforcing his devotion to his girl and initiating a love affair with the stranger.
Kenyon marveled at this odd situation. The juxtaposition of Dalia the stripper and Dalia the homebody struck her as astounding. Strippers were aimless, ignorant, prostituting dames – even drug addicts. Right?
Obviously wrong.
However, with all that was going on in her own sorry-ass life, she didn’t have the time or brain power to mull over someone else’s life.
Before long there would be two hundred people in a church waiting for her to walk down the aisle.
What in hell was she going to do about that?
Would she forgive Chad – because she felt certain he would beg to be forgiven – and go through with the wedding or cancel the damned thing?
When Rover went to the door, Rose took him out. Once the child left the room, the real conversation began.
“You’re sure you feel okay? Not hung over?” Mamie went to the stove and brought back the coffee pot to refill all their cups. “I’ve got aspirin if you need it.
“Thanks, but I feel fine. Who knew? I’ve never had that much to drink before so had no idea how it would affect me.
I’m so sorry…” she looked at Dalia “…that last night I turned into a total idiot who had to be taken care of.” Dalia shrugged as if it hadn’t been a big deal.
“But surprisingly, I feel fine this morning.”
“Is there somebody you should call?” Mamie asked. “Someone who’ll be looking for you? Last night you said no, but you weren’t exactly thinking clearly.”
“Nah. I’ve been living with Chad for six months, the guy I’m marrying, and he sure as shootin’ wouldn’t have expected me to go home to him last night.
I’m sure he thinks I went to my parents’ and he’s afraid to call their house.
I’m certain they have no clue anything is wrong.
If they do know, Chad is dead by now. My dad would see to that. ”
The other two tittered.
“You have one of those dads, huh?” Mamie asked over the rim of her cup before taking a sip.
“Oh yeah. He thinks I’m twelve and need constant protecting. And I love him for it.”
Interrupted when a man arrived to pick up the two loaves of bread and two pies he’d ordered, the women went right back to their chat as soon as he left.
Dalia said, “You probably don’t remember this, but you told me the whole story on the way home.
I was busy serving customers, the restaurant being so busy and all, so I didn’t see what all happened.
” She fed Kenyon their cover story. “So, your best friend – your matron-of-honor, no less – and your fiancé have been having an affair, as well as he’s been cheating on you with Crystal.
That’s the name of the, um, waitress he was with.
In fact, he comes in about once a week and they, um, meet up.
You had every reason to cry like you did.
I’ve never seen so many tears.” She shook her head in sympathy and took a sip of her coffee.
Kenyon had listened carefully, picking up the cues as to what to say. “Aw, geez. I’m so sorry. I ruined your night at the restaurant. You probably lost tips.”
“No, I’d finished my tables and was on my way home when I picked you up.”
“Good.” Kenyon nodded, going along as best she could.
“I’m glad I didn’t lose you any money. I’m such a putz.
But this was supposed to be the start of my new life.
I just graduated from U. of M. with a degree in communication with an emphasis on journalism, The Detroit News wants an ‘exciting’ article from me to see if they’ll hire me, and I was going to be a new bride.
New beginnings all around. What a crock. ”
“Maybe this is your news story.” Mamie’s eyebrows shot up with the idea.
“Interview other women who’ve made heartbreaking discoveries just before their weddings.
There are plenty of men who deserve to be skewered and roasted over a big, hot fire.
What makes a woman decide to get married or not in that situation. ”
“Ha. Interesting idea. I like it.”
“Although, that has the potential of getting depressing.” Dalia took another teaspoonful of sugar for her coffee as if warding off depression. “Or it could turn into a rollicking romantic comedy.”
“True,” Mamie agreed. “Do you have other ideas?”
Kenyon swallowed the last bite of her second piece of bacon. “Not a one.”
“Well then, when you have no idea what to do, that leaves every possibility open to you.”
“I like that. You sure are a positive person. So are you.” Kenyon turned to Dalia.
“When a girl is raised by Mamie Blackburn, there’s no other choice than to look on the bright side of things.” Dalia’s face lit up with adoration for her mother.
“My mom’s a lot like that, too,” Kenyon noted. “My mom is Llayne O’Brien. Maybe you’ve seen her on TV.”
“Of course! My-oh-my, she’s the best news anchor in the state, if you ask me,” Mamie said. “Why, she’s been at Channel 5 for a very long time.”
“Yeah, most of my life. She started out in Lansing but got the Detroit job when I was six. My dad works in Lansing, so we moved in-between to Farmdale. But we’re just across the county line, so I went to school in Chelsea.
That would be why Dalia and I never met before.
But we actually live closer to Farmdale and that’s what we consider to be our town.
It’s easy for my parents to get to work, to Lansing and Detroit, from this area. ”
“What’s your dad do?” Dalia wanted to know.
“He was a state senator for a long time but a few years ago the job of state Director of Military and Veterans Affairs opened up and he jumped on it. He was in the Vietnam War and he’s all about helping veterans.
In a round-about way, him being in that war is how I came to be adopted by them.
I’m Vietnamese, as you can see.” She circled a hand around her head.
“When you see me with my parents, it’s obvious I’m adopted.
” She hoped that would open the door to the story of this family, a black woman with a white daughter.
“Well, it’s pretty obvious that I’m adopted, too.” Dalia took the bait. “In fact, my mama here isn’t even my real adoptive mother. She took me in when I was four.”
“Best day of my life!” Mamie beamed. “Listen, I want to hear more about this, Kenyon, but these are stories for another day. Right now you have a wedding to consider. When is it, dear? Next weekend?”
Kenyon glanced at the schoolhouse clock on the kitchen wall. “ Hmmm . Let’s see. It’s in three-and-a-half hours. Eleven o’clock.”
“Today?” Her hosts yelped.
“You didn’t tell me that last night,” Dalia said. “I assumed in a week or two.”
“Nope. Today’s the big day when I walk down the aisle in a fabulous designer wedding gown in front of two hundred people to marry a douchebag. Until death do us part, no less. I have no idea what to do.”
“Kenyon, sugar.” Mamie patted the table to emphasize her point.
“This is a heart-wrenching decision no one can make but you. No matter what you decide, there’s something I want you to remember.
Your wedding may feel like the end-all-be-all, but there will be many far more important days in the years to come.
A woman’s life isn’t predicated on one flashy, expensive day when she wears a big gown and there’s lots of hoopla.
The best days are the ones that happen out of nowhere – the people you meet, the family you create, the unexpected moments that bring you pure joy.
Like when you’re in your comfy shorts and a tee shirt and you’re sitting outside in a summer breeze with someone you love with every fiber of your being, and suddenly it strikes you that life couldn’t possibly get any better.
Or when your toddler waddles up to smack you with a gooey kiss that makes you laugh.
Or when you wake up in the night and know your loved ones are sleeping peacefully, and you can sleep peacefully.
Those are the moments that make a good life.
Goodness will come to you throughout your entire life.
If you decide not to go through with this wedding, it will not ruin your life. I promise you that.”
Struck by those words, Kenyon paused thoughtfully before responding. “Thanks, Mamie. I needed to hear that. It gives me a lot to think about.”
“Okay then. If you’re wedding is today, we need to get a move-on.” Dalia stood up and pointed at Kenyan. “Let’s get this sideshow on the road. I’ll drive you to your damned wedding or wherever else you want to go.”
“Honey, what are you going to do?” Mamie got up and stood next to her guest, who stood up beside her. The matron wrapped an arm around the young woman’s shoulder.
The question overpowered the bride-to-be – or bride-not-to-be.
Kenyon’s mind went blank. She looked out the window at Rose galloping around with Rover, who bounced around with wild abandon.
It was the kind of happy family scene she’d always pictured for her own life when she became a mother. With Chad as the father.
That fairytale had up and died an excruciating death. The shock of that reality ignited a spark in her brain that lit a blazing fire, and suddenly she could clearly see what she must do. She needed to bury her slaughtered fairytale once and for all, and there was only one way to do that.
A wedding-funeral.